Zhong Mingwei felt that he had changed, becoming timid and useless. He used to be a cold and hard-hearted person. But now, because of these trivial noises, his heart was softened beyond recognition. And because of the loneliness of half a day, his heart felt empty, even uneasy and afraid. He felt that he had become another person. A person that even he himself felt was unfamiliar.
…
"I know!"
The door opened.
Zhong Mingwei swallowed hard, then turned his face to the other side. The blurry window paper was torn by the wind. He followed the tear and watched Ah Chou come in with a bamboo basket that was almost bigger than her. She must have deliberately lightened her steps. Slowly, crouching. She moved step by step into the woodshed. After a while, the girl came towards him with something in her arms. Zhong Mingwei was so busy that he turned his face away.
Zhong Mingwei listened to the footsteps approaching. Then they stopped beside the bed. She must be holding ointment. At this time, the room was filled with a faint herbal smell. It was a little cool and a little pleasant.
"You haven't woken up yet?" Ah Chou muttered softly. She placed the ointment on the bedside and climbed onto the bed quietly. Then she saw Zhong Mingwei turned around with squinting eyes, as if he had just woken up. Ah Chou was overjoyed, "You're awake?"
"Well," Zhong Mingwei said lightly, his eyes slid across Achou's sweaty forehead, and then fell on a white jade Guanyin pendant that he took out from Achou's collar. The pendant was of good quality, and it should be an ancient jade. Even Zhong Mingwei, who was used to seeing rare treasures, couldn't help but take a second look, "This pendant is pretty."
"Really? I think it's pretty, too. It's something my mother left for me," Ah Chou said proudly. He took the pendant and looked at it. He wiped the sweat stains off it with his sleeve and then stuffed it back into his collar. "I treasure this the most."
"Your mother...left it for you?" Zhong Mingwei was a little surprised. Ah Chou said that he was a criminal slave, but the material of the pendant was obviously good. Only a wealthy family could have such a good thing.
"I'm not born a slave," Ah Chou obviously understood what Zhong Mingwei meant. He rolled his eyes at Zhong Mingwei and took the ointment to stir it. He said to Zhong Mingwei, "My father was an official, but he got into trouble and our family fell into poverty. Both my parents died. I was able to survive because I was young, but I became a slave and was sent to the laundry department."
"Your father is...?" Zhong Mingwei asked again, thinking that he might still know about Achou's life experience.
"I don't know. I don't even know my last name. I was only four years old when I entered the palace as a maid. I don't remember anything at all," Ah Chou said as he lifted the quilt from Zhong Mingwei's body, scooped out some ointment and put it on his back, gently applying it. "I asked the doctor, and he said that as long as you keep applying the ointment, your bedsore will heal soon. But it may be a little painful, so just bear with it!"
It did hurt, Zhong Mingwei gritted his teeth and endured it. Naturally, he had no intention of asking who Achou's parents were. The cold ointment became extremely hot under the rubbing of the little hands. From his shoulders to his lower back, this heat was accompanied by pain, but he did not feel uncomfortable. He even liked this pain in a twisted way. At least it proved that his flesh and blood still existed and this body was not a rotten wood or a sunken boat. He was grateful for and enjoyed the pain that Achou brought him.
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